The Whiskey Effect: A Small-Town Standalone Romantic Comedy

by J. W. Ashley

  I shake my head, chuckling to myself as I climb into the car. More than a few curious glances are sent my way. Not that I’m surprised. I imagine in a town like this, people recognize newcomers. And with my red hair? It’s not like I can blend in.

  Claudia

  The drive back to Lena’s new place is quick, and before I know it, I’m pushing into the small house. “He’s got it,” I announce as I beeline for a bottle of wine sitting on the kitchen counter. I pour myself a tall glass and take a sip.

  It may not be Jameson, but damn if this cab doesn’t taste sinful.

  “Thanks for doing that.”

  “Not a problem.” I take my glass over and sit beside Lena on the couch. Exhaustion is written clearly all over my best friend’s face. She’s been obsessing over this decision for the better part of a year, and I can tell that seeing Graham again took its toll on her. “Becca asleep?”

  Lena nods but continues staring into the fire. She and I have been best friends our entire lives. Her family practically took my mom and me in after my dad bailed on us when I was five. She’s been like a sister to me, which is why I don’t have a problem calling her out when she does dumb crap.

  “So, he asked you to move with him, huh?”

  Her head whips around to me, causing the liquid to slosh around in her glass. It was almost comical, the surprise on her face. “He told you?”

  I nod. “Question is, why didn’t you? And why the hell didn’t you go with him?”

  “We’d only known each other for two weeks. It would have been irresponsible.”

  “Irresponsible to take a chance on a man you’d fallen in love with?”

  Lena snorts. She can pretend all she wants, but we both know I’m right. She and Graham had both been head over heels for each other. And while I don’t put much stock in love or relationships, I do believe in both, and my friend is—or rather was—a serial relationshiper.

  I take a drink from my wine. “Seriously? Relationships start and they end, that doesn’t mean they aren’t worth it.” Rich words coming from me, but I believe it even if it’s not a philosophy I follow myself. I’ve yet to meet a man who can hold my attention long enough for me to even consider settling down.

  “I know that now, but I was so scared. It just seemed far too soon.”

  “I hear you, but I wish you would have told me. I’ve been mad at him for leaving you behind. Considered driving up here and kicking his ass.”

  Lena smiles softly. “I wish I’d told him when I found out about Becca. I should have told him.”

  “You can’t change the past. You’re here now. All you can do is pick up the pieces and move forward.”

  “Maybe things would be different. I mean, hell, he still has the same effect on me as he did before. Maybe we could have gotten married, raised Becca together.”

  “Maybe.”

  Lena sighs wistfully. “He’s still so handsome. All I want to do is pull him into bed.”

  I nod, totally understanding what she means. Sexy-from-behind bar guy pops into my head. “The lumberjack effect will do that to you.”

  “What in the actual hell is the lumberjack effect?”

  “You don’t know?” I gape at her, surprised that she doesn’t know my number one theory about plaid-wearing, bearded men. “When a man has the lumberjack gene, a woman can sense it, you know? We are drawn to it—moths to a flame—helpless to deny. If he was born to have a beard and look sexy in a red-and-black-checkered shirt, then you know he’s got the gene, and it’s only a matter of time before the lumberjack effect takes its toll on you.”

  She continues staring at me, eyes wide. “You’re serious.”

  “I never joke around about lumberjacks.” I take a drink of my wine, and Lena throws her head back laughing. I grin over my glass, happy to see my friend happy. Laughter begins to bubble up in me, and I nearly spill my glass with the force of my humor.

  There’s a soft knock on the door, and Lena gets to her feet, still half-laughing. She looks through the peephole, and I watch her pale.

  Which can only mean one person. I mean, we haven’t been here long, so I’d be really surprised if it were anyone else.

  Lena pulls open the door.

  “Hey, Lena.”

  “Graham.”

  “I’m Leo.”

  At the sound of the newcomer, I get to my feet and walk to the door.

  “Graham tells me there’s someone in this house that I need to meet.” The deep baritone has me grinning before I reach the door.

  “Well,” I say, leaning against the doorjamb. “Hello there, handsome.”

  Clam-jammed

  Claudia

  I don’t know what I was expecting in terms of Graham’s friend, but it sure as hell wasn’t this guy. Dark hair cut short, his clean-shaven jaw is so sharp it could probably cut glass.

  Staring back at me are the most beautiful hazel eyes I have ever seen. They’re nearly golden brown and bright, possibly the brightest eyes I’ve ever seen. Lust pools in my belly, and for what might be the first time—I’m literally at a loss for words. I’m not broken! I want to do a victory dance, to literally shake my ass right here and now because there is nothing wrong with me. Just turns out I was fishing in the wrong pond.

  “Can we come in?” Graham asks. We step aside to let them come in. “Is Rebecca asleep?”

  “You want a drink?” I ask Leo. He grins, showing off perfectly white, straight teeth as well as a dimple on the right side of his mouth.

  I want to lick it.

  “That would be great, thanks.”

  “Whiskey or wine?” I ask as we step into the kitchen.

  “Whiskey, if you got it.” His deep voice hits me in all the right spots, wrapping around me like a sexy, plaid blanket. He may not have a beard, but he definitely has the gene.

  “I do.” I stretch up to the cabinet above the stove and retrieve the bottle of Jameson Cold Brew Whiskey. Glancing over my shoulder, I meet his gaze and grin. “Enjoying the view?” I ask.

  He grins, the smile spreading over his face, revealing that dimple again. “I have no complaints.”

  Laughing, I turn and hand him the bottle. “It’s good stuff.”

  “Never had the cold brew kind before.”

  “Well, trust me, it’s worth it.” I take the bottle back and pour us both three fingers into two glasses. Then, I hand one to him and hold mine up. “To new friends,” I say and clink my glass against his.

  “New friends,” he says and takes a drink. “Damn, that’s good.”

  I grin. “Something about me, Leo, I’ll never lead you astray.”

  “I’ll hold you to that.”

  His eyes hold mine, and I can’t help but get lost in them. It’s ridiculous. Typically, I’m the charming one, but right now, I feel like an idiot. A deer in his bright headlights. “Um, do you want to sit on the couch?” I ask, and he turns, giving me a full view of the sexy backside I only got a glimpse of in the bar.

  My mouth goes dry at the sight of his ass clad in tight jeans. I bet I can bounce a quarter off it, and for some reason, I really, really want to try.

  He sits down on the couch, and I sit beside him, not on the opposite side but with about six inches between us. This close, I can smell his aftershave—a delicate blend of spices that’s somehow masculine and mouth-watering all at the same time.

  What the hell is this guy? A freaking living, breathing, sexual fantasy?

  “So, Claudia, how long you here for?”

  “Till the end of the month. I’m here to make sure Lena and Becca get settled.”

  He nods, jaw hard. I imagine he’s probably pretty pissed at my friend for what she did to his, but thankfully for us both, he doesn’t say anything. I’m not interested in hearing about her choice from his point of view, just like my opinion doesn’t truly matter.

  Only the three people directly involved—Lena, Graham, Becca—can have a say in what happens going forward.

  “What do you do, L
eo?” I ask.

  “I work with lumber.”

  I nearly spit my whiskey out. Graham literally brought me a fucking lumberjack. I need to thank him later.

  “You okay?” he asks me, amused.

  “I am. You’re a legit lumberjack.”

  He laughs, the rich sound sending the dull ache between my legs into a full-on throb. How the hell do I already have a lady boner for this guy? It’s been months since I felt anything for a man, and he’s been here, like, what—ten minutes? I cross my legs, hoping to dull some of it. “Isn’t that what you wanted?”

  “I mean, hell yes. But I can’t say I actually expected him to deliver.”

  The delicious light in his eye’s beckons to me, and I get the feeling that this is a man who doesn’t miss much. His eyes linger on my face, before dropping down to my lips.

  I can’t help it, I bite down on my bottom one, wondering what his mouth will feel like on mine. Because I swear, if after all this the guy is a shit kisser—I’m going to be pissed.

  “What exactly is it you were looking for?” he asks me, and I clear my throat, bringing my attention back to his impossibly beautiful hazel gaze.

  “Not anything serious. Just some good—filthy—fun.”

  “I think I can help with that.”

  “I’m sure—”

  “Ready to go?” Graham asks as he and Lena walk back into the room.

  And clam-jammed.

  “Yeah, let’s get going.” Leo gets to his feet and turns to me. “It was wonderful to meet you.”

  “Likewise. I hope I’ll be seeing you soon.” I hold my breath, knowing that his next words are going to mean one of two things. Either I’m getting laid by a sexy-ass lumberjack this month, or I’m going to have to bust out the spank bank and take care of things myself. Because I know—without a doubt—there’s not another man in Whitefish, Montana who will compare to Leo.

  “You definitely will.” He sets his cup on the counter, and I get up to walk him and Graham to the door. The two men disappear out into the night sky, and Lena shuts the door. I want to swoon, to tell her all about what I felt sitting next to L.L., but I don’t because I imagine she has a lot more serious things on her mind.

  “Well?” I ask her.

  “Well, what?”

  “How did it go?”

  She sighs, and I can see the defeat in the slump of her shoulders. “He won’t ever forgive me, but if the test comes back positive, he will be there for Becca.”

  “Looks like you’re staying in Montana.”

  “Looks like I’m staying in Montana.”

  Leo

  As I make my way down the sidewalk to Graham’s truck, I can’t take the smile off my face. Which is slightly awkward because I can sense the tension rolling off him in waves. Having to go toe to toe with the woman who hid your baby from you—that’s some rough shit.

  “How you doing?” I ask as we climb into the cab.

  Graham takes a deep breath and leans back in his seat to run both hands over his face. “Honestly, dude, I have no fucking clue. I want to hate her—but seeing Becca, she’s so adorable.”

  He smiles, and I feel for him, I really do. I want kids one day, and the thought of missing out on so much of their life—

  “I can’t hate her because if Becca is mine, Lena’s given me the greatest gift I could have ever received.”

  “Just five years past the party,” I say, and Graham nods.

  “It’s hard.”

  “I agree. There’s no way in hell I’d want to be in your position.” I don’t voice how shitty I think it is that she waited so long, or how I have very little respect for her because I imagine he knows those things.

  Graham nods and starts his truck, pulling away from the curb. “What did you think of Claudia?”

  The stupid grin returns to my face. “She’s something—sexy as shit.”

  “She’s a firecracker.” Graham chuckles. “I’ll never forget the high five she gave me for kicking the shit out of Lena’s ex and his friends.”

  “Well, from what you told me, you deserved it.” I remember hearing all about the beautiful blonde he’d rescued from her ex and a group of his suit-and-tie-wearing douchebag friends. I just wish I would have been there to see it.

  “She’s a good person, but just a heads-up… she’s not one for commitment. Or she wasn’t, anyway. Who the hell knows?”

  “Perfect. What are you going to do about Becca?”

  “I’m going to send in the paternity test, though like I said earlier, I don’t think it’s necessary. I’m pretty damn sure it’s coming back that I’m her dad.”

  “Still doesn’t hurt to have the proof.”

  “I know.”

  “It’ll all work out, man.”

  Silence blankets over the cab, and I turn my attention out the window as Graham heads toward the lumberyard so I can pick up my truck.

  Claudia’s bright green gaze and flaming hair pop back into my head. Those full lips—damn. I can’t wait to see her again. Shit, I haven’t felt that kind of instant connection in—well—ever.

  Just the thought of her has me grinning like an idiot. “Shit.”

  “What?” Graham asks as he heads back toward the bar where we left my truck.

  “I forgot to give her my number.”

  Graham laughs. “You do have it bad. Keep it in your pants, Hayes, it’s been five minutes.”

  “You’re one to talk.”

  He chuckles. “Yeah, I guess that’s true. I knew from the first night that I was in love with Lena.”

  I remember how broken he was when he came home. At first, I thought it was just stress over his mom, and while a lot of it was, he’d been broken up about the woman he’d left back in Idaho too.

  “You thinking about giving it another shot with Lena? If things come back positive and you are Becca’s dad.”

  He shakes his head. “I can’t ever trust her again. I spent years trying to get over her, to move past that whole relationship, I would have jumped back into things in a heartbeat before, and now she’s back, and I just—I can’t even think about going there again.”

  “I get it.” I lean back in my seat and stare out the window as I picture Claudia again. I’ll have to swing by tomorrow and leave my number on the door or something so she has some way of getting into contact with me.

  Because damn, I can’t wait to see her again. Graham pulls up next to my truck in front of The Wood Splitter. “You coming in for a beer?”

  “Or twelve,” he jokes as he climbs out.

  After shutting the passenger side door of his truck, I head up the steps and into the bar, my mind still on the gorgeous redhead who’s the first woman in the better part of two years to make me feel anything besides a basic attraction.

  Tomorrow can’t come soon enough.

  It Was A Mattress Attack!

  Claudia

  Beep! Beep! Beep! “Sonofamotherbitch.” My alarm blares, and I roll over to smack it. Instead of hitting my clock though, I roll off the edge of the bed.

  “Shit.” I smack into the floor with a curse and roll to my back, groaning as I open my eyes and stare up at the ceiling as the first rays of sunlight glint in. I scramble to my knees and crawl over to where my phone is plugged into the opposite wall and silence my tone before I wake anyone else.

  What a way to wake up. I close my eyes and lean back against the wall, stretching as my aching muscles protest each movement. Eyeing the air mattress I spent the night on, I briefly consider stabbing it. I could make it quick, just a few pokes with a sharp knife that will make it so it won’t ever hurt anyone’s back again.

  I purse my lips. If I do that, I’ll be sleeping on the hard floor. “You get to live another day,” I whisper to my enemy before pushing to my feet and heading over to the windows where my suitcase sits. I open the blinds to see the early morning and grin when I see Leo getting out of a truck and heading toward the front door.

  I turn and go to run. My foot im
pacts with the mattress and down I go. “Motherfucker!” I whisper-yell and hop the rest of the way to my door. Thankfully, the house is still quiet, so as I half-walk, half-hop to the front door, no one is there to witness my desperate attempt to reach the front before Leo leaves.

  I pull open the front door, and Leo jumps back, half-terrified. “I thought that was you,” I say super casual-like because I have no intention of letting him know how much I was willing to injure myself just to see him.

  His look of surprise turns into one of genuine pleasure, and I look down to see an orange sticky note in his hand. “That for me?”

  “It is.” He lifts it and offers it to me. I take it, our fingers brushing for just a moment. The delicate touch sends a shiver of desire through me, and I look up to meet his bright gaze. “I realized that I didn’t give you my number or ask for yours.”

  I smile. “So, you’re saying you were thinking about me?”

  “I couldn’t stop.” His confession has my smile widening, and the thought of him unable to think of anything else thrills me.

  “Same,” I say.

  The white T-shirt he’s wearing is stretched over his chest, and I want to reach forward and touch the soft fabric just to feel the hardness of the muscle beneath.

  He looks up at me through lashes that are so damn thick it makes me envious. “What should we do about that?”

  “I have a few ideas,” I reply, and he chuckles, running a hand over the back of his neck beneath the ball cap covering his dark hair.

  “I have to head over to my grandparents’ house for a bit this morning, but would you be up for getting together this afternoon? I grill a mean steak.”

  “That sounds like a start.” Smiling, I reach forward to brush the shoulder of his shirt. “String,” I lie. In reality, I just want to touch him.

  In response, he reaches forward and brushes a finger down my arm. “String,” he says with a grin, and I know he is calling me on my lie. The sensual motion wipes all humor from my face. With my hand on him, his on me, I have to fight the urge to jump him right here on my best friend’s porch.